Scent
by jerseybones
Summary: The power of pheromones come into play again but this time it's Booth that realizes that mysterious scent of his partner has become so familiar he can recognize it anywhere.
1. Brennan's POV

_**Scent

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_Brennan's POV_

Pheromones — a word derived from science but rooted, by every effect, in emotion. The word pheromone is from the Greek _pherein,_ meaning to carry and _hor__mōn,_ meaning to stir up or rouse. The etymology of the word made it easy to see how I had been unconsciously affected by him. He was almost always close enough where that scent was able to carry and I had always assumed it was just that particular brand of cologne that stirred up my olfactory pathways.

I had, up until recently, never associated his scent as _his._ That was until last night's date with the Orthopaedic surgeon. When my date had greeted me with a kiss on my cheek, I had immediately recognized the cologne as the one Booth wore, but had been surprised by the lack of…stirrings. I had always been conscious of that subtle, clean and sexy spiciness. That smell had interfered with my concentration on more than one frustrating occasion. It was never as dangerous to my composure as after Booth's underground fight in Las Vegas. Holding his body upright, that intoxicating aroma had surrounded me as securely as his arms had and I had to remind myself that Booth was hurt and required a different sort of attention than my racing hormones demanded.

My puzzlement distracted me the entire evening, so I was not surprised when my date had not even attempted to prolong the evening. I knew I would not hear from him again. When I finally arrived back home, I immediately began researching odor, which lead me to pheromones. It was actually quite fascinating how many different types of pheromones are present in the animal kingdom. In general, a pheromone is a chemical substance that serves as a stimulus to others of the same species for one or more behavioral responses, from sex to defense to providing information. In any of these uses, I was unable to deny my intense physical attraction to Booth.

The sex pheromone was obvious, as I desperately wanted to feel him deep inside, fused to my own heat. Booth put out a powerful pheromone according to my body's continuous physical responses. His chemical output alone concluded he would be a more than adequate bedmate, but combined with his physique, symmetry, observational skills, intelligence and heart and I felt hard pressed to rationalize why he could not be a mate. His body is exceptional and would account for my body being prepared with the needed lubrication at a moment's notice. He has an almost psychic ability to know exactly what I need and I must confess my skin tingles at the thought of that perception being focused onto my sexual appetite. Lastly, Booth's heart would ensure I felt loved and wanted—more than as a biological imperative for a short span of time.

But in that question was the eternal answer and reason for my distress. He did not want me in return. The line of professionalism effectively kept him from my reach. All I needed to do was remember that line to cloak my arousal and need and throw him off _my_ scent. Yes, Booth flirted with me occasionally. And yes, he constantly assured me that any man would be lucky to be with me, even when he also claimed the majority would not be good enough. Both facts demonstrated two other very desirable traits for a possible mate—playfulness and loyalty. And yet…

I reviewed my notes on territorial and aggregation pheromones. Territorial pheromones mark the boundaries of what is perceived as ones claimed domain, while aggregation pheromones function in defense against predators and mate selection. I always detected trouble when he started asking leading questions about my dates. He had not known about tonight's disaster, which in this case was unlucky as he would have helped it end earlier. While it is unclear whether the men I dated—those who _had_ met Booth—actually smelled a specific chemical that their brains registered as a warning; his physical posturing and intimidation tactics certainly forced them to keep their distance. I supposed it was endearing how he looked out for me, even when I am clearly in control of the situation. It is very pleasant to feel cared for and special.

But even those men, whom I invited back to my apartment to assist in stress relief, encountered his presence. Booth repeatedly left indicators of a male occupancy in my life. He is very absent-minded for such an organized person. I am always finding his ties, jackets, cell phone or watch in various rooms. Actually, this could be an example of information pheromones, where an animal will deposit chemicals to serve as a warning to others about the existence of said animal within the already established territory. I did not like having to explain who the owner is to my dates, of the obviously male items. I felt at war each time I returned the belongings to my partner. I get upset with him for invading my space and love that he is there.

Now I am confused by a different train of thought. He drew his line and yet is upset when I accept a date with another man. He on the other hand can date whomever he wants without fear of backlash from me because I have never learned of his dates beforehand. He pushed me to be more open with my past experiences and present feelings and yet he hoards all personal information regarding his own life. He protected me from countless bad guys but raged at me anytime I attempted to guard his back in return. The man is a complete hypocrite.

My shoulders slumped in defeat and fatigue. I am exhausted by the endless circles in my arguments. I can only determine conclusions based upon solid facts.

Fact: I am attracted to Booth.  
Fact: I want Booth sexually.  
Fact: Booth makes me feel special.  
Fact: I want more than just sex with Booth.  
Fact: I have no insights into why Booth is so inconsistent with his behavior towards me.  
Fact: Booth only sees me as a friend.

As I finally began to fall asleep, my last thought was my conclusions 'stink'.

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**A/N 1: Thank you for reading. Please feel free to let me know of any typos, grammar problems, difficulties following the sentence structures, problems with holding true to Brennan's character and speech patterns or other concerns. Please believe me when I say this type of feedback is even more helpful and encouraging than a pat on the back** _"Good job"_**or** _"I liked it."_ **Either way, I do hope you enjoyed it.  
A/N 2: I have a Booth POV and a dialogue-based one-shot to continue onwards.**


	2. Booth's POV

_**Scent**_

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_Booth's POV_

Between Christmas and New Year's, I had gotten some badly needed time off to go home and visit my Mom, Aunt and her partner. Jared had called with another weak excuse for missing the holidays. My dad had been there, but fortunately, he was busy with church and AA meetings. Unfortunately for me, the women in my family decided they needed my opinion to go return some of their holiday cheer. I have always hated shopping and it wasn't any better to go shopping with a group of women. Don't they understand that I'm a man? Men don't browse aimlessly through stores. But I loved these women and they easily distracted me with constant questions about Parker, my recent trips to England and China—of course, I never really got to _see_ much of China—and then questions about my non-existent love life and Bones.

During the endless stream of "bonding" the women subjected me to; we somehow managed to end up in a perfume shop. Bottle after bottle was shoved under my nose, with the same question, "Do you like the way this smells, Seeley?"

The majority of odors were too strong. I don't understand why women stench themselves up with some of this stuff. Finally, one of the fragrances my nose was shoved against was actually nice. It was kind of soft, sweet without being sickly and slightly exotic. My brain immediately drove down the familiar road to Bones and I felt myself missing her even though it was only a couple of days. Bones always smelled really great and it was similar to that last perfume, just…not quite. Bones' scent was sexier somehow and it was also a little bit stronger, but still I always found I had to lean in close to get a good whiff—and torture myself.

All of a sudden, I felt more eager helping the women with picking a product and I began to sniff around like a dog. I was determined to figure out what she wore—it had a hint of a fruit to it, maybe mango? God! Was it possible to be more pathetic? Some alpha male I turned out to be. I was too cowardly to ask my partner on a date but apparently hunting for some possession of hers so that I could pretend I have an intimate knowledge of her was perfectly acceptable.

We searched for another 40 minutes and I must have sniffed about 200 brands and not one of them was a match to that intoxicating smell I knew as well as my own cologne. Finally the women wanted to move on and I was forced to follow. To stay behind would have stirred up a never ending batch of new questions all of which I would have had no other answer other than how pitiful I really was. Why couldn't I let her know I want her? Why couldn't I tell her how her trust in me made me believe that I was a good man? What was I so afraid of?

Damn!

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About three weeks later, we were at her apartment finishing up a case. I leaned over her to grab a stack of folders when that scent slammed against my senses like a sucker punch. Every erotic thought I had had over the past four years hit me at once. I excused myself quickly and headed for her bathroom desperate to find the source of my torture and calm down my hard-on. I couldn't believe what I was doing! I was ransacking Bones' bathroom like a friggin' junkie, but it was driving me crazy. She had three bottles of shampoo and four bottles of conditioner and I sniffed each one individually and in combinations and not one was a match. What the hell did that woman wear? Did she import oils made in some monastery she found while trekking around Asia? Or did she mix her own perfume at the lab like a mad scientist hell bent on driving _me_ mad?

I went back to her living room, swallowed my pride and asked the question, "Hey Bones, I was wondering, what perfume do you wear?"

She didn't even glance up from the paperwork as she replied, "I favor _Indécence_ when I go out for the evening? Why?"

"Ok, well what do you wear at work?"

"I don't wear perfume at work. Smell is one of the markers used to catalog injuries. Wearing fragrances could hinder my abilities."

"Bones, we've worked together for four years. I know what you smell like. I could single you out of a room filled with women—while blindfolded. You have to wear some perfume, no one smells like that naturally."

She stopped writing and looked up from her work, clearly interested in the direction of my questions. "I cannot imagine a time when you would be able to prove that theory. And what do I smell like?"

I felt my eyes bulging in panic and stammered a reply, "I don't know Bones, that's why I'm asking."

"Well, I'll admit my shampoo and soap are lightly scented but I change the fragrances periodically and I honestly cannot recall what I'm currently using." Looking puzzled, she pointed her pen in the direction of the bathroom. "Did you want me to go check?"

"No, Bones, it's not important." I shook my head feeling like an idiot and couldn't help but asking again. "You really don't wear any perfume?"

"Why would I want to deceive you about something so trivial?"

"I don't know Bones. I guess I'm just confused. I mean your scent doesn't periodically change, you always smell like…Bones…I mean Temperance, not…you know…bones."

She chuckled, probably at my nervous rambling. "I understood you Booth. So if you know what I smell like why couldn't you answer me before?"

"Huh?"

"What do I smell like, Booth?"

"Umm…you know I'm sorry, this isn't appropriate. We should get back to work." I quickly turned my attention back to the stack of papers in front of me. I tried to ignore her staring and that cute little crinkle between her eyes. When she finally turned back to her writing, her hair swirled around her shoulders and the mysterious mist of her skin invaded my concentration again. Crap! When did I start obsessing about the way my partner smelled? This went way beyond just wanting her in my bed. What's next? I start remembering what she wore last Tuesday? Oh man, this can _not _be good.

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**A/N 1: Thank you for reading. Please feel free to let me know of any typos, grammar problems, difficulties following the sentence structures, problems with holding true to Booth's character and speech patterns or other concerns. Please believe me when I say this type of feedback is even more helpful and encouraging than a pat on the back** _"Good job" _**or **_"I liked it."_** Either way, I do hope you enjoyed it.  
A/N 2: I have a final dialogue-based one-shot to continue onwards.**


	3. Conclusion

_**A/N: I wanted to say thank you to everyone for your amazing and detailed feedback. You have all provided so many specifics that I was able to go back and rework both Brennan's and Booth's POVs. Adding in your thoughts, I agree that both chapters are now stronger than what I was able to write alone. This story has now become for you and from you.**_

_**An extra special thanks to:** _FrigginNometry **for catching my typo in Chapter 1; **exclu1221** for helping me with clearer grammar for Brennan's thoughts in Chapter 1; and **Tchitchou **for pointing out how Booth's chapter could be expanded to include even more thoughts.**

**And now for your final fluffy wrap-up.  
**

_**Scent

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**_

_Conclusion_

It was well past his usual lunch break when Booth walked into his office. He just finished his annual review with Deputy Director Cullen and it had taken longer than he had anticipated. He was in a slight daze and not just from hunger, but from the feedback his boss had given him which left him both preening and confused.

His mind reprocessed Cullen's comments, _"Booth, your overall performance has been exemplary. You and Dr. Brennan have the highest close rate of any office in the country. Your paperwork is thorough and _usually_ submitted in a timely manner." At this point Cullen had given Booth a pointed stare, letting him know he would have to keep up with his partner's speed for pulling together all needed documentation. "I admit I was concerned about your continued partnership once you became romantically involved with each other; however, as your record clearly indicates, your relationship has not posed a problem. I knew it was only a matter of time before the two of you became an item—any one within fifty yards could smell the residual electricity. Our continued collaboration with the Jeffersonian has become recognizably crucial to the higher level officers, so we must maintain an excellent working relationship. I've seen you and Dr. Brennan together and I know you'll both maintain the same level of discretion. All in all, if you keep this up you are well on your way to a promotion." Cullen closed Booth's file and, with a small smile, dismissed him. "That will be all."_

As Booth sat at his desk, his partner's "non-perfume" surrounded him. He scowled, frustrated with the knowledge that everyone assumed he and Bones were together. When he looked out the glass doors of his office he almost thought he had become psychic as the very beautiful object of his thoughts walked towards him.

She pushed his door opened and immediately questioned him; fortunately, she sounded more concerned than angry. "Booth, we were supposed to meet here 20 minutes ago. Where were you?"

"Sorry Bones, Cullen's review went into overtime."

Brennan still stood, watching as his scowl deepened. She asked hesitantly, "You appear to be upset. Did your evaluation not go well?"

He waved off her concern and gave her a half smile, "Nah! Don't worry, it was fine. Just some of his comments are bothering me." He saw she was about to ask more questions, which he was not ready to discuss, so he distracted her with his own query. "Hey, Bones were you sitting in my chair?"

"Your chair is the most comfortable in your office and I was waiting a long time," she responded defensively. Brennan knew how possessive Booth was of his alpha-male status symbols.

"Well what did you do, rub yourself on it like a cat? Your scent is all over it."

"Booth I told you I do not wear perfume and the lotion I used this morning has since completely absorbed into my skin." She cocked her head thinking on the situation further. "I suppose my brand of washing detergent and fabric softener could have been transferred to the leather; however, that would have taken a lot of friction and I sat fairly still."

Booth pinched the bridge of nose to clear all thoughts of Bones rubbing on or against anything. "So, you ready for lunch?"

"Yes, we can go." Despite her reply, she made no move to gather her belongings. "Booth why did you ask me what perfume I wore that night?"

"Bones that was what? A month ago?"

"So? _This_ conversation directly correlates to that one."

"Well…umm…you don't understand how unique your scent is. I couldn't figure it out."

"And you have been trying?"

"Well…not on purpose. It's not like I go around sniffing you."

She was surprised when he blushed, and shifted her weight to her back leg as she crossed her arms.

Misreading the retreat as repulsion for his stalker similarities, he quickly caved, "Ok, so I was with my family over Christmas and my Mom, Aunt and her partner dragged me with them to the mall. We were in a fragrance shop for…a few minutes and it just happened that one of the perfumes reminded me of you and I just started thinking. I was curious and I asked. No big deal."

She still looked surprised, but then she smiled softly. "Did I tell you I had a date with a surgeon a couple of months ago?"

He groaned and pushed himself out of his chair, feeling an urge to move, "Bones, I really _don't_ need to know about your love life."

As he spoke, he gathered their things and tried to herd her out the door. She recognized the twinge of sadness in his tone and immediately stilled him by briefly touching her hand to his chest. "Booth, the date was horrible. I knew he was not going to call me again."

He looked in her eyes and was surprised that she did not appear upset by the rejection. He still felt a need to reassure her and quickly declared, "Well, he's a fool."

Brennan smiled. "Thank you, but I was admittedly at fault. I did not pay attention to him at all. I was completely distracted…by you."

Now it was his turn to look confused, "Huh? What did I do?"

"You, or rather _he_, smelled like you. He was wearing your cologne but it was different somehow. It did not smell the same. And I was attempting to figure out why, thereby, I was distracted through dinner."

He was stunned, not able to come up with a single intelligent thing to say. Met with his continued silence, Brennan continued, "Come on Booth, I gave something of myself, now it is your turn. Why did you ask about my perfume?"

"Bones, I already told you." He saw how her eyes flashed fire and he braced himself as best he could.

"No! No Booth, you told me a story you felt comfortable with. You honestly believe I do not know you? That I can not read you? You are not telling the whole truth and that is the same as lying."

Noticing how her raised voice was earning several curious stares, Booth quietly pleaded, "Bones can we continue this conversation somewhere where the entire office can't hear us?"

She glared in frustration but relented and led the way to the elevators. Neither spoke as they rode their way down to the garage, walked to his SUV and began driving away from the Hoover Building. She did not ask where they were going and he did not volunteer the information. She soon recognized his direction and pulled out her keys in preparation. After parking, they continued up and inside to her apartment.

Brennan believed she had shown enough patience. "Ok, no one can hear us now." She threw her coat and purse on a chair in a small show of temper.

Booth exhaled in defeat. He felt unsure on how she would react after he answered. He was unable to figure out how to appear sane once she knew. "You have to hear me out and wait until I'm done before you speak. I'm serious on this. If you want that answer, I'm going to need to figure out how to say this and I'm probably going to mess it up first. I'll let you know when I'm done. Deal?"

Brennan's eyes burned with questions, but she honored his request and hesitantly acquiesced. She sat on her couch while Booth began wearing the carpet in front of her.

"I've realized from the beginning—from that first case you consulted on for me—that there was _something_ about you. I couldn't figure out what it was, it was just something and of course we fought all the time, so I kept forgetting the something and just remembered feeling aggravated. But months later, when we were at the bar after closing the Masruk case," he paused to see her nod in remembrance of that night. "I recognized a part of what that something was. It was the way you smelled. It was such a stupid thing to notice at a time like that, but I breathed and…well it's not like I could ignore it. Then after a couple more months, I not only had your scent down—to the point where I would recognize it after 20 years not being around you—I also realized it made me feel calmer _and_ crazier."

Booth's words were starting to paint a picture, an abstract one, but one that was slowly coming into focus. He slowed his pacing and sat almost on top of her, before continuing, "Just sitting this close to you I feel like Jekyll & Hyde. I mean we're partners, right? And we're friends; we're really good friends. But we are partners and I'm not supposed to pay attention to things like that and I am not supposed to feel anything because of it. I mean even if we _could_ figure it out, why would...? I'm not a genius like you; I don't know a million facts." Booth shook his head obviously struggling with the points he was trying to get across. He stopped when he noticed her smile and the shine in her eyes. His hand rose to test her cheek. "Bones, are you crying?"

"No, I don't think so, maybe. Booth, what are you saying? I do not like to assume, but I can not help conclude that you…care for me?"

Booth groaned, "I care about you? Is that all you got?" He shook his head and cursed softly, "Damn."

"Assumptions lead to mistakes and I have no way of confirming how strongly you might feel outside of our partnership. As my partner, I have no doubts as to the strength of our commitment to each other. The scars alone reveal the depth of our overall solidity."

"Bones, come on." His angry gaze challenged her.

"Fine, since I am forced to assume, your speech would lead me to believe you love me in a non-professional, non-platonic manner." She crossed her arms stubbornly, fearing his response would contradict her statement.

A slow, utterly sexy, smile bloomed on his face as he watched her nervousness and it was that very reaction that gave him the needed hope to admit his truth out loud. "Yeah, Bones, I do love you. I am in love with you to the point where I'm not sure how to react first. Should I strangle you for making me crazy with how reckless and stubborn you are or should I push you up against the nearest wall and torture you like you do to me every single blessed day? I want you. I want us to continue being there for each other but I also want to wake up with you in my arms and I want to tire you out so you let me hold you all night."

Brennan was unable to control her breathing and responded shakily, "I had thought maybe after we had started to become friends that something might happen between us. But then, before Cam, you made it clear some people can not enter a physical relationship and then, after Cam, you had erected the 'line'. And yet, even after both of those rejections…"

"Whoa! Bones, I never rejected you."

"Yes you did, Booth. Both of those comments were for my benefit and we both know it, otherwise you never would have slept with her and hid it from me."

"I still wasn't rejecting you; that's the wrong word. I was just scared. We had something good going and I didn't want just sex because that would have been the fastest way to kill our partnership…our everything."

"And even after I started to listen to your arguments and accept you had some valid points on love and monogamy, you still never did anything. There were moments when we would stare at each other and I wondered if you would ever kiss me; but you never did. And then more and more time passed and I resigned myself to the facts. And now you are telling me you love me. I do not understand you, Booth."

"Bones, you only just started believing I might be right. The whole boy toy/gay florist mess wasn't all that long ago."

"Jason was a botanist and he was not gay."

"Whatever Bones, it still wasn't that long ago. And the risk of getting involved was too great. Not because of any physical danger but the emotional one. If we are going to get together I need to know we're going to try and really _be_ together. No biological urges, no hiding our feelings…and no more being scared."

"Why now? If it was a risk before and nothing has changed between us, so why is it still not a risk?"

"Because now, the risk is that you're going to find someone else and I'm going to miss my chance to sweep you off your feet." He smirked when she rolled her eyes. "I don't want to lose you before I get a chance to prove to you that love is real. And I know I'm not as smart as you…"

"Booth there is no deficiency in your deductive reasoning, visual-spatial abilities, vocabulary, memory, perceptual skills…"

"Ok, ok, Bones, thank you." They were both quite for a few minutes before he timidly asked, "So you find conversation with me stimulating?"

"Booth, you are _very_ stimulating intellectually." She smiled shyly and placed a reassuring hand on his knee. "In fact spending time with you is invigorating emotionally and physically as well. And being with you could never be about biological urges. A night in your arms would be anything but inconsequential. I may not agree with all of your romantic ideals, but I do believe in you and I am willing to try."

"That's all I needed to hear you say." He beamed before leaning in to kiss the woman he loved. When they finally parted for air, the partners were both smiling. "Now I only need two more things from you, Bones."

"And what would that be, Booth?"

He flashed his cocky grin before standing and pulling her up with him. His arms circled her and he rested his forehead against hers before answering, "I need to show you how physically stimulating I am and I need to hear you scream my name."

The partners walked hand in hand towards her bedroom where eventually became right now.

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**Final thank you: While this is the end of my story, I would greatly appreciate knowing if you find any more typos, grammar problems, difficulties following the sentence structures, problems with holding true to their characters and speech patterns or other concerns. Please believe me when I say this type of feedback is even more helpful and encouraging than a pat on the back** _"Good job" _**or **_"I liked it."_** Either way, I do hope you enjoyed it and thank you again for reading. **


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